Behind Closed Lips
by BrandSpankingNew
Summary: The Marauders have gotten themselves in a great deal of trouble with this year's DADA instructor, and he promised they'd see the cane for this. But James and Remus notice that Sirius is...off, and they're concerned. Will their friend tell them why he is acting so strangely, or will he keep his secrets behind closed lips? Contains caning, swearing, images/talk of child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

This fic was a request from Iamakoala, who also beta read for me. Thanks hon!

**WARNINGS**-Contains **caning** of teenagers and **swearing**. I believe the rating is high enough, but if you disagree, please review/PM me and let me know.

* * *

The three fifth years stood in a line in the hallway. One, with wild black hair and a slim frame, shifted nervously from foot to foot, his hands dug deeply in the pockets of his robe. The second, a rather faded and shabby-looking boy, tapped his fingers urgently against his thighs, his breath coming a bit faster than normal. The third boy stood stock-still, at attention like a soldier, his slate eyes staring blankly in the distance.

James spoke first. "Pete is gonna be really glad he was in hospital with dragon pox," he offered to his companions.

"Yeah," said Remus quietly. They exchanged quick grimaces.

Sirius didn't move. He didn't even blink.

"Professor Honkelbopper sure was pissed, eh mate?" James tried again.

"I've never seen anyone's ears smoke like that without Pepper-Up," Remus agreed after a short pause. "You reckon it's true, that he's part Salamander?"

"I'd heard dragon," James replied. "He's too big too be part Salamander."

"Not sure that a dragon could mate with a human, though," Remus said seriously. "Think about it. A dragon would just as likely eat you as let you, well, you know."

"Maybe his great-grand-mum was an Animagus?"

The pair contemplated that. Sirius gave no sign of hearing them.

"Well, he's sure big enough to be part dragon," James said. "I reckon he's as tall as Hagrid."

"Will you please shut it?" Sirius asked tonelessly from Remus' other side. His friends both looked to him.

"You all right, mate?" Remus asked cautiously.

Sirius didn't reply. The door next to James opened.

"Mr. Potter." Honkelbopper's tone was severe.

James swallowed hard, and disappeared into the man's office.

* * *

The door slammed shut, leaving two boys in the hallway. They could still hear the rumble of the professor's voice through the door, although not the words he spoke. He only spoke for about a minute. There was a silence of perhaps thirty seconds, and then a whooshing noise that would stop any schoolboy's heart, followed by the sharp crack of rattan against flesh. Remus and Sirius both flinched. James' yelp could be clearly heard even through the thick door.

Remus glanced at his friend, who had gone as pale as fresh milk. He briefly wondered if Sirius, who was usually brave to the point of recklessness, was going to faint. Hesitantly, he reached over and took his friend's arm so he wouldn't collapse to the floor if his knees gave out.

Sirius jerked away, and Remus heard his breathing pick up speed and volume. Another whoosh, CRACK! followed by a yell came from the other side of the oak door.

"Sirius?" Remus asked. "You all right?" But Sirius didn't say anything. He looked to have shrunken into himself a bit. This was beyond strange.

When Honkelbopper had screamed at the three of them in front of the entire class, Sirius had smirked and cracked jokes under his breath to both Remus and James, as he usually did...until the man had hollered that they'd see the cane for this. Of course, Remus had been too busy panicking himself then to realize that Sirius had gone silent. It was only after class, as the trio was walking to Honkelbopper's office, that it had struck Remus that Sirius hadn't said a word since then. And now, he was, well, acting very un-Sirius-like.

Whoosh-CRACK! The response from James was louder and more severe now, and Remus didn't miss it when his friend pushed himself further back against the wall.

Swoosh, CRACK! "Ahh!" James sobbed out. Another low rumble from the professor.

"Padfoot? You're really freaking me out, here," Remus cajoled.

Sirius did not react at all to his friend's statement. His back was right against the cold stones of the wall as though he hoped to make like a ghost and walk through it. "Sirius?" Remus tried again cautiously. Still, nothing. "Mate, are you all right?"

Another swipe of the cane was heard from beyond the door, and another cry of anguish. The yells were becoming progressively louder and more out-of-control, and with each one, Remus had to swallow hard as his lunch threatened to make a second debut. How could someone hit another human being hard enough to make them scream like that? Didn't the professor have a heart? It sounded like James was being murdered in there!

Remus' heart was in his throat-he had never been caned before and it sounded worse than any horror story he'd heard from older boys in the dorms. But even through his fear, he still had enough compassion that Sirius' reactions were terrifying to him in a whole different way. This was not like Sirius. Happy-go-lucky, brave Sirius. This silent, stiff stranger would have made Remus suspect Polyjuice, but the boys had been together for at least an hour and none of them had taken as much as a sip of water, much less anything else.

Whoosh CRACK! The noise that James let out then was the shrill squeal of a dying rabbit, and Remus shut his eyes. They were all going to die, or at least be maimed. And for a rather lame prank at that...a couple (dozen) dungbombs shouldn't have gotten them in this much trouble.

The professor's voice was rumbling again behind the door. "Sirius, please say something," Remus said rather frantically. "I...oh, Merlin, he's going to kill us."

The-statue-that-was-Sirius spoke then in a low mumble. "It'll be bad, but it sounds like the professor will only give six," he said in that same emotionless voice. "No need to panic."

"No need to panic? Did you hear James screaming in there?" Remus said. "That sounds like a reason to panic to me!" He felt pretty close to panicking himself now.

The door opened then. Both boys turned to look at their friend as he limped out the door. James looked much the worse for wear, with red eyes and tear stains on his face only somewhat rubbed away by the sleeve of his robe. His breath was hitching in his chest too, in that way that it tends to when one has been crying too hard. Remus felt the blood drain from his own face.

"Prongs?" he managed to whisper. James just shook his head, looking down at his trainers.

"Mr. Lupin," Honkelbopper intoned.

It took every last ounce of Remus' Gryffindor courage to take the few steps away from his friends and through that door.

* * *

James was in absolute agony. As soon as the door shut behind Remus, he grabbed his buttocks in both hands, then let out a hiss of pain. "Ahh, Merlin, that h-hurt!"

Sirius was silent. James would have expected at least a bit of mild, good-natured ribbing from his friend. He knew he hadn't taken it the best—he'd screamed like a little girl, actually.

"P-Paddy?" James said. "You all r-right?" He carefully inched closer to his best mate, trying not to move his legs overly much.

Sirius didn't answer.

"R-really, mate, it's n-not that bad. I'm j-just a bit of a w-wimp," James tried again, this time lying straight through his teeth. Sirius swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat, but otherwise made no sign that he had heard him.

James heard the tell-tale sound of a cane connecting with skin behind the door, and the first yip from his friend. Merlin, it was surprisingly easy to hear from out here—no wonder his mates had looked so pale when he'd stepped out.

Sirius' stillness was unnatural, unnerving. His friend was always moving, restless and generally unable to be still. But right now, he seemed to be doing his best impression of a Muggle statue. James reluctantly released one buttock and waved his hand in front of his friend's face. Those gray eyes snapped to his for a moment, then returned to the middle distance. But Sirius didn't tell him to bugger off as he usually would have done.

Another loud CRACK and corresponding yip of pain came from the office. Even though his punishment was over, James couldn't help but flinch. Across from him, Sirius did as well, but his face was still and unreadable.

The next CRACK came with a yelp that reminded James of when he'd accidentally stepped on his dog's tail. James did a bit of quick calculations in his head...the moon was waxing, and they were five days out from the full moon. It would explain why Remus' cries sounded more like an injured pup than a pained boy.

"S-sounds like Remus' furry little problem is rearing its head in there," James commented softly. Again, Sirius gave no sign of having heard his friend. James looked over at him again. _He sure looks pale,_ he thought.

CRACK! From behind the door came a low howl, not unlike the ones from the last moon spent wandering the Forbidden Forest. Moony was not doing well in there, either.

"D'you r-reckon that if we used our Animagus forms, once we're back in the dorms, that the pain would go away?" James said quietly, not wanting any passer-by to hear them.

"No," Sirius said tonelessly. James looked at him curiously. He sounded awfully sure.

Another crack, and another anguished howl. James bit at his lip.

"Couldn't hurt to t-try though, right?" he prodded, hoping Sirius would expand his answer.

"It's useless. And the shift hurts, too, when you're injured." The boy's voice was slightly muffled and without inflection. He sounded very certain though, and James couldn't help but wonder why.

CRACK! The howl this time was long and loud enough to make James wince. His sideways glance at his friend saw Sirius squaring his shoulders, his jaw set. He looked like a man facing off with a firing squad. "Padfoot?"

He saw Sirius swallow. There was a long pause.

"Don't wait for me," he said quietly. "I'll see you back at the dorm."

"But—" James protested. The door opened. Moony limped out, teary-eyed and obviously in pain, his gait uneven.

"Mr. Black," Honkelbopper intoned from the inside of his office.

James watched his friend walk inside with his head high and his spine stiff. The door slammed shut behind him. He glanced over at Remus, who was sniffling into the sleeve of his robe.

"You all right?" he asked. Remus shrugged.

"N-not really," he muttered under his breath. "My a-arse really h-hurts."

The boys stood anxiously in the hallway.

"We can't just leave him," James said.

"'C-'course not!" Remus replied, sounding affronted. "W-we wouldn't."

James felt uneasy, but even though Sirius had told them to go, he couldn't have really meant it. No one would want to be alone to face something like that! So they stood in the hallway, rubbing cautiously at their sore backsides and listening reluctantly to the muffled sounds escaping the office.

* * *

Sirius stood inside the doorway, avoiding the professor's eyes. His father thought eye contact was the height of disrespect and reacted accordingly. The last thing he wanted to do was make this giant of a man angrier at him.

"You know why I'm caning you," Professor Honkelbopper said sternly. "Is there any confusion on that account?"

"No sir," Sirius mumbled around a small piece of leather he'd conjured on the walk between the classroom and the office. He'd found long ago that such a thing would protect his teeth and jaw, and also helped to muffle sounds he couldn't suppress. A familiar terror was already thrumming through his spine, but he concentrated on being absolutely still and without emotion. Any kind of resistance, any kind of reaction, would only make things worse.

"Fine. Remove your robe, trousers and pants down," the man said. "Bend over the desk."

Silently, efficiently, Sirius took off his robe and placed it on a chair. He stood in front of the desk and unbuttoned his trousers, then pushed both trousers and underpants to his knees. His stomach was twisting as though he'd been hit with a slug-burping hex. Sirius was well-acquainted with pain, but that didn't stop him from fearing it. He pressed his chest to the surface of the desk and gripped the sides in a practiced movement.

The professor must have noticed, for he scoffed. "I see that unlike your friends, this is not your first taste of the cane," he said. It wasn't a question, so Sirius didn't reply. He was acutely aware of the chill air on his bare skin, and the minute tremors of his legs. _Only six,_ he reminded himself. _You've never known how many were coming before._ He could take six. That was nothing, really.

The whoosh as the cane displaced air made him tense, and the CRACK seemed to echo off the walls of the office. For a moment, he felt nothing, before bright, fiery pain lit a line across his backside. His teeth clenched deeply into the piece of leather, but he managed to hold back a cry.

_Only five more,_ he repeated to himself like a mantra. _Only five more._

Whoosh-CRACK! He jerked at the impact but again managed to keep the yell behind his teeth. He heard the professor sniff.

"You think you're a tough lad, do you?" he said. His voice was mocking. Sirius squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep back tears. His father hated tears; they only made the beatings worse.

Whoosh-CRACK! _Oh, Merlin, that hurt!_ But he somehow managed not to scream out, even though the only pain he'd ever felt worse was the Cruciatus. Mother didn't like to get her hands dirty with a punishment that any common muggle could dole out. His father, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the hands-on aspect of causing pain without spells. He was usually more for using his fists than a cane, but he used one often enough that Sirius knew this pain familiarly.

Whoosh-CRACK! Whoosh-CRACK! The two strokes back to back nearly made Sirius scream, but despite the unbelievable agony, he managed to hold back the noise. Behind him, he heard the professor breathing hard.

WHOOSH-CRACK! The sixth stroke was even harder than the rest, and Sirius let out a squeak of pain that he couldn't suppress any longer. Even through his agony, he pushed away from the desk, crouching forward to pull up his clothing.

WHOOSH-CRACK!

The unexpected stroke connected with the small of his back. The last thing he saw was the floor rushing up to meet him as his world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings**: Mentions of **child abuse** (nothing particularily graphic). Also** bad language**. This chapter has not been beta read.

* * *

In what seemed like an instant, he awoke to smelling salts. His clothes had been straightened, though, and so he knew it couldn't have been as short a time as he'd thought. The professor grabbed his arm and hauled him bodily to feet that weren't ready to support him. He was dragged over to the door, his entire backside from the small of his back to the tops of his thighs a throbbing mass of pain. "Potter, Lupin, take your mate back to the dorms," he ordered gruffly, and Sirius found himself with an arm draped over each friend's shoulder.

"Padfoot?" James sounded shaky. "What took so long?"

"Sirius," Remus added. "Mate, you're...are you..." He didn't seem to have words to finish his query.

Sirius tried to take his weight off of his friends. "Fine," he muttered. " 'm fine."

"He's not fine," James said. "He's green. And pale. Here. Hold him up, Moony. My dad showed me a..._locomotor mortis_!" With a flick of his friend's wand, Sirius felt himself raise off the ground. "Easier to transport someone like that," James explained unnecessarily.

He probably should have protested, but he was in so much pain that he didn't know if he had it in him to walk, especially not all the stairs going up Gryffindor Tower. So instead, he allowed James to bob him along the halls, silently hoping that they wouldn't run into anyone on their way. They seemed oddly quiet to Sirius, but he didn't put much thought into it, because the pain and nausea was overwhelming his capacity for rational thought.

Suddenly, he realized it was the dinner hour, which left the corridors quiet and still, with even the ghosts in the Great Hall. They were, of course, the Marauders, and so the boys used their map and every shortcut that they knew to keep away from the few other students not eating dinner. Even so, it was almost fifteen minutes before they were safely ensconced in their dorm room in the Gryffindor tower. When James canceled the spell, Sirius fell the last few inches into his bed, and let out a quiet moan of pain.

Both of his friends were at his side in a heartbeat.

"What happened, Sirius?" Remus asked.

"You look like hell," James added helpfully.

Sirius struggled to roll onto his side. James put a hand on his back to help. Sirius hadn't expected it, and thus hadn't braced himself to hold back a shriek of pain. James pulled back as if he'd been burned.

"Sirius!" Remus said. He bit his lip, then said, "Take your shirt off, mate."

Sirius shook his head, still trying to turn onto his side. "'m fine," he said.

"I'm with Moony," James said. "You want some help?"

"Didn't know you guys swung that way," Sirius said dryly.

"Don't be such an arsehole. Obviously you're hurt," James retorted.

"Worry about your own backsides," Sirius said. He finally stopped struggling to turn and settled onto his sore back. If he didn't move, the pain wouldn't keep flaring. He could try again in a minute or two.

Suddenly, he was aware of a twinge in his bladder. He groaned.

"Padfoot?" James said.

"Gotta piss," he said. "Help me up?"

James took his outstretched hand and pulled him up. His legs were more steady under him than they had been before, and he managed to keep his balance and hobble towards the boys' toilet. His friends dogged his footsteps.

"I think I can piss by myself, lads," he said deadpan.

"You look like you're gonna faint," Remus said.

"If you hear a thud, you have my permission to come in," he conceded.

They reluctantly allowed him to go into the bathroom without them. He pulled out his wand and muttered a quick locking spell on the door, then limped over to the toilet.

A sharp pain shot down his back as he started to relieve himself. It was explained in a moment by urine the color of cherry wine. "Shit," he said. Definitely a bruised kidney, then. Not too surprising, considering where the cane's last stroke had landed.

He finished his business then turned to the mirror. Carefully, he shuffled so his back was to his reflection and un-tucked his shirt. He pulled it up, mindful not to let the fabric touch his injured back.

A long wheal stretched across his lower back and curved around his side. There was a pale stripe in the middle of the welt, with dark bruising forming around it. Only one, he noted gratefully, and the skin wasn't broken. So the professor had stopped the beating once he'd passed out. His father didn't always.

He didn't bother to check out the damage on his backside. More of the same, and he was well aware of what it would look like. He dropped the hem of his shirt.

When he walked back into the dormitory, he found Remus and James slowly, carefully changing into pajamas. He opened his trunk and said, "_Accio_ pajamas!"

A striped pair in Gryffindor colors shot out, and he snatched them from mid-air. He dropped them onto his bed and undid the buttons on his shirt before dropping it in a heap on the floor. Behind him, he heard two simultaneous gasps.

"Merlin's balls!" Remus said.

"Your back!" James said. "Padfoot, what the hell happened in there?"

"He missed," Sirius said. He slipped his pajama shirt on very carefully, and began doing the buttons.

"That looks really bad, mate. D'you think we ought to bring you to hospital wing?" Remus questioned.

"No wonder you yelped when I touched your back," James said. "It does look awful!"

"I don't need to see Madam Pomfrey."_ They were so dramatic_, Sirius thought. "Not like I haven't had much worse."

"What does that mean?" James' voice was high, surprised. Sirius froze. Shit, shit, shit! Had he said that last bit aloud?

"Nothing," he said, hurrying to finish buttoning up his shirt. His fingers suddenly seemed clumsy and fat.

"That doesn't sound like nothing," Remus said. "I can't even imagine anything worse!"

A touch to his shoulder made him jump. He spun around despite his soreness and found himself only a hand-span or two from James. "What do you mean, much worse?" James repeated, staring at him. His hazel eyes were intense.

"Nothing! Leave it alone," Sirius said. He would have backed up, but unless he wanted to sit on the edge of his bed (which he most certainly did not) there was nowhere for him to go. So instead he put his hands on the other boy's shoulders and gave him a small push. "Get out of my face."

"What the hell!" James said, taking a few steps back. "What's gotten into you, Padfoot?"

Remus grabbed James' arm.

"Let the man put his pajamas on," he said. "No need to get in a row."

Sirius was about to thank him, when Remus continued, "He can tell us what he meant after he's buttoned his top."

Sirius said, "I didn't mean anything. Let it be." He buttoned up the last button on his shirt and carefully pulled back the covers on his bed. Very carefully, so as to not put overmuch pressure on his injured backside, he leaned on his hip before rolling carefully to his stomach, then back onto his side. He'd had plenty of practice with taking care of himself post-beating. Of course, the bruised kidney made his back feel heavy and sore, but he didn't want to put the weight of his body on his arse either. Really, lying on his side was the best compromise he could make.

He sensed rather than saw the glances that his friends exchanged. Finally, James sighed, and Remus began limping towards the boy's toilet.

He heard James whimper and wince as he climbed into bed and tried to find a comfortable way to rest. Sirius turned his head and saw his best friend adopting a position on his stomach. James turned his head to the side. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Sirius closed his, shutting out the room around him. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his wand. He whispered a spell that shut the curtains on his bed, then slid his wand under his pillow.

Hopefully by tomorrow, they would forget about what he had said. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, he lambasted himself mentally. They had been friends for years, and he'd never said a word about his parents' cruel treatment. Well, at least not the physical aspects of it, anyway. The boys all knew that he hated his folks, and that they hated him right back, but that was easy enough to chalk up to being a Gryffindor in a traditionally Slytherin family. But today had been physically painful, and there was no way that Remus and James would believe that his parents' verbal cruelty was "much worse" than this caning. No way. They weren't that thick. Even Peter wasn't _that_ thick.

He could hear Remus making his way cautiously across the dorm's stone floor, then frantic whispering. Surely about him, but there were sound-dampening charms on the bed's curtains and he couldn't pick out their words.

Exhaustion hit him then, swift and sudden like the Hogwarts Express. He closed his eyes, hugging his pillow to his chest. He'd worry about them tomorrow. Right now, more than anything, he needed to sleep.

And so even though it was only 7pm, Sirius shut his eyes and drifted off.

* * *

"Moony," said James in a whisper as Remus was exiting the toilet. "Come here."

"What?" Remus hissed back, limping up to the side of his friend's bed.

"He's not all right," James replied. "That is not a normal reaction."

Remus bit his lip and glanced over his shoulder to the closed curtains around Sirius' bed. As long as they were quiet, Sirius shouldn't hear him; those curtains kept out a lot of sound. "I know," he whispered finally.

"What the hell was all that?" James questioned.

Remus cast a quick cushioning charm on the floor by the bed, then knelt. Usually, he would have conjured a chair if he needed to, but not tonight. "He sure was acting strangely. I don't think I've ever seen him like that before," he said. "You?"

"Only once," James said. His eyes widened. "Oh, shit. Oh, oh."

Remus waited, but James wasn't forthcoming. "Care to share with the class?" he asked finally.

James licked his lips nervously and glanced over at Sirius' bed. The curtains were still drawn tightly. "Well...it's not quite my story to tell," he hedged.

Remus considered that. "So it's not something good, then," he stated.

James shook his head. Remus looked away, still thinking.

"D'you think Paddy would tell me?" he asked.

James sighed, then shook his head again. "He didn't even tell me anything...I just, things are beginning to add up. I mean, I suppose I could be wrong." But James' eyes were troubled, and Remus knew that his friend didn't think he was wrong, whatever he was thinking.

"Prongs, what is it? What are you thinking?" Remus pushed.

"Well, I'm not quite sure...only, the thing is, well...his parents aren't the best, mate."

Remus blinked. "Not the best? What do you mean?" But his stomach twisted a bit. He'd never met Sirius' parents, as he was a lowly half-blood and not fit to lick their boots as far as they were concerned. But James was a pureblood, even though he wasn't from a traditionally Slytherin family, and so he had run across the Blacks repeatedly over the years. He would have a better idea of what Sirius' parents were like. "I mean, yeah, they're Slytherins, but..."

"No. I mean...I saw his dad hit him once." James' voice was barely a whisper. "Last spring. You and your dad had already went out to Muggle London, to meet your mum. Sirius and his father were in queue to floo out of 9¾. And Sirius looked almost exactly like he did today. No expression on his face, no nothing."

"He hit him?" Remus couldn't help but be a bit shocked. His parents had smacked him on the backside a few times when he was very young, but had long since stopped. "Like a little smack, or...?"

"No, he hit him in the jaw. With his fist. Knocked him backwards a few steps even, then yanked him into the floo." James swallowed again. "I wrote him about it over the break, asked if he was all right. He didn't write me back; when we met up at the train in the fall he told me that he'd spent the whole summer grounded." Remus hadn't been on the Express this fall; the full moon had coincided with the first day and his father had brought him in after it passed.

"Think we should talk to him about it?" Remus asked. Of all the boys, Remus was the most likely to want to talk things over. The others sometimes poked fun, but he figured it was the result of a childhood where he had little to do except read or talk to his parents. But he was fairly sure that James would agree with him in this instance.

James didn't even make a joke about it. "Probably," he said, sounding resigned.

Remus slowly got to his feet, every movement highlighting the soreness of his hindquarters. "Well, come on then," he said. James squirmed his way out of bed, and they limped together over to where Sirius was cocooned.

"Padfoot?" he said in a stage whisper.

There was no sign of movement behind the curtain. James said, "He wouldn't have heard that anyway. Oi, Paddy, coming in," he said, and yanked the curtain back.

They stared at their friend. He was positioned on his side, curled up in an impossibly tiny ball, his eyes shut and breathing even. "Reckon he's really asleep?" James whispered.

Remus sniffed deeply; his nose was always better than his friends' and this close to the full moon, his werewolf senses were heightened even more. Stress hormones dropped when people slept, and he could smell the difference there; the only thing that really made him worry was the faint scent of blood. "Yeah, he's asleep," he whispered back. He pulled the curtains shut again. "Tomorrow," he said, his voice at a more regular volume. "Before class. We'll talk to him tomorrow." They began the slow, painful walk to their own beds.

James nodded his agreement, then yawned. "I know it's pretty early, but I'm shattered," he said.

"Me too," Remus replied. He was always more tired around this time in the lunar cycle, and he didn't think that caning had helped any with that. The adrenaline rush was long gone, and now he felt as though he was running on the very last bits of his energy. "I think Sirius had the right idea."

They made it back to their own beds. "G'night, Moony," James said, gingerly climbing into bed and rolling onto his belly.

"G'night, Prongs," Remus replied quietly, carefully curling up on his own mattress. "Nox." The candles around their room extinguished. Another flick of his wand shut the curtains around his bed.

He truly hoped James was wrong. If Sirius' dad was hitting him, what would they even do? His dad was a pureblood, and rich too. Nobody would go against the elder Black for Sirius' sake.

Maybe he'd only hit him that once. They had gotten in quite a bit of trouble last year at the end-of-term banquet; his father had grounded him for nearly two weeks for that stunt with the Nifflers, a permanent Sticking charm, and copious amounts of glitter. But his father never hit anyone. Perhaps if his dad were that sort, Remus would have gotten hit too. They'd done more than a bit of damage to the Great Hall, and his parents had made him work all summer to help them pay off the fines he'd been levied.

Even as he fretted, his eyes began to feel heavy. Despite his worry, and the soreness of his backside, it did not take long for Remus to fall into a deep and heavy sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

When Sirius woke the next morning, he was greeted with deep, heavy soreness. He groaned and pulled back the curtains around his bed. To his surprise, the dormitory windows were showing only the faintest hint of dawn on the horizon. He felt pretty well rested all things considered, so he carefully got up and gathered his belongings for a shower.

He took care of business and noted that there was still blood in his urine, then climbed into the shower stall. Sirius often did his best thinking while showering. And he needed to think.

Yesterday had been such a stroke of bad luck. Ha. _No pun intended, _Sirius thought. They hadn't foreseen that Honkelbopper would react to the prank so strongly. Remus, always the brains of the operation, had reckoned that the worst that might happen was being sent to see the Headmaster. James and Sirius had both agreed. Dumbledore had a rather notorious sense of humor about the Marauders' pranks, so long as no one was injured. "We can always say that we were just trying to give Peter a laugh, since he's got dragon pox," James had said.

But instead, they'd been caned, which preyed on some of Sirius' worst memories. And then, to add insult to injury, he'd told the lads that he'd had worse. Out loud, and completely unintentionally. It didn't surprise Sirius that they wanted answers. If one of them had said that, he would have demanded to know what they were talking about much more strongly than they had. He'd been surprised that they'd allowed him to close the bed curtains and go to sleep.

So the question was, what was he going to do now? Part of him wanted to just avoid them, but it would be nearly impossible since every trick and hiding spot that he knew, they knew as well. Plus, if he avoided them, they would _know_ that he was hiding something.

He could deny everything, he mused, say it was bravado. They might buy that. But then again, they'd all gone through it together. Would that mean that he was calling them soft? Maybe calling himself soft.

Or, he could misdirect. Tell them a story, and make it a big one. There were plenty to choose from. Just make it out to be a one-time kind of thing, though, rather than a depressingly often occurrence. That might be the way to go.

He let the water run over his face, eyes closed. He'd rather not admit anything. But he didn't have access to a Time-Turner, and so he would just have to grit his teeth and bear it. Hopefully, he'd be lucky, and they would forget all about what he'd said.

But in case he wasn't, he'd have to think of a story that was sufficiently bad, but not bad enough to make them worried.

He couldn't seem to settle on a story though, because his brain was running like a hippogryff chasing a weasel, twisting and turning and never really settling in one place. Finally, he just sighed and turned off the water.

He was a Marauder. He could wing it with the best of them.

* * *

James woke to a hand on his shoulder. "Get up," Remus said.

He tried to roll over, but pain stopped him before he made it to his back. _Ouch_. Oh yeah. They'd been caned. And that reminded him...

"Sirius awake?" he mumbled.

"He's long gone, mate. Not that I'm surprised; you saw how shifty he was acting last night."

James very carefully slid out of bed. His hindquarters were an all-over mass of pain and he grimaced.

"Yeah. Mine too," Remus said, noticing his expression. "I'm starving, but I don't know that I can take sitting in the Great Hall this morning."

"The house-elves won't let us starve though. D'you want to stop by the kitchens?"

"Yeah. That'd be a good idea. Maybe we can stop at old Sluggy's office before class and see if he has any essence of Murtlap he'd be willing to part with," Remus suggested.

"Think I've got some candied pineapple that Mum sent in her last care package," James said. He stooped over his trunk like an old man and dug for it. "Yes! Here it is, and unopened!"

"He'll trade that for some Murtlap in a heartbeat," Remus said. "Mentioned it's a favorite of his last week after Reynolds asked about bringing up her grade, remember?"

James tossed it down onto his bed and pulled out a clean uniform and robe. He started unbuttoning his pajama top. "Well, let's get a move on, then. We need to corner Sirius some time before class starts too. It'll probably go better if we can offer him some pain relief." His stomach growled loudly. "But first, breakfast."

* * *

Sirius leaned against one of the kitchen's low counters. Everything was properly sized for a house-elf, which meant that he was bent nearly double over the large, steaming bowl of porridge one of the creatures had prepared for him. It was sweetened with honey and splashed with milk, just as Sirius would have prepared it for himself, and there was toasted bread spread thickly with marmalade, fresh strawberries, and a carafe of milk too. He absolutely loved the Hogwarts house elves.

"Young sir Black should not have been so naughty," Knobbles, the Head house elf scolded lightly. Other elves in the Hogwarts tea towels flew back and forth across the kitchen floor, carrying stacks of gleaming bowls and heaping platters of toast, but Knobbles was intent on talking to Sirius, as she always did when he ate in the kitchens. "If young sir hadn't been so naughty, young sir could be eating with his friends in the Great Hall this morning! But no, young sir is always causing troubles for the professors. If young sir was Knobbles elfling, Knobbles would have ironed his ears!" Knobbles patted him absently on the back of his calf. "She would have, yes she would have indeed."

"You don't mean that, Knobbles," Sirius said around a mouthful of bread. He knew she didn't. Oh, she talked a good game, but he knew that the elf looked at him fondly, like she might have were she his personal elf. "My ears are too small to iron. And anyway, what would you do if you didn't have me to look after? You'd be bored to tears!" He loved to tease her, because Knobbles had been around the kitchens for many years and gave as good as she got.

"Oh, no, young sir. You is wrong. All the things Knobbles could be doing if young sir didn't always make so much trouble." But she had a smile on her face that spoke of her affection for the rapscallion in front of her. "Eat more. You is too skinny, young sir Black."

Sirius happily slathered more of the tasty orange spread on a thick slice of bread. "I eat and eat. I'm just a growing lad. You know that—" Sirius cut himself off as two familiar faces limped into the kitchen.

James and Remus looked rather surprised to see him. "Sirius!" James said.

"Uh, morning," he managed, suddenly becoming very busy stuffing his face. He should have thought of this! If he wasn't in any shape to sit in the Great Hall, why would they be? _Stupid, stupid, stupid, _he berated himself mentally. So much for avoiding them all day and hoping they'd forget.

"We were looking for you mate!" Remus said. He looked exhausted, as he often did when it neared the full moon, but he seemed to be in good spirits. "James and I thought we might ask Slughorn for some essence of Murtlap, if he had any to spare. We have candied pineapple to trade."

Sirius stared at them for a second, then broke into a grin. They might not be thinking about the stupid things he'd said last night after all. "That's brilliant," he said. "But first, to eat. Knobbles made first-rate porridge this morning, and there's plenty to spare."

"Easy for young sir to say," Knobbles grumbled, but a big smile across her face put lie to her words. "Well, sit, sit. Knobbles will get young sirs something to eat."

"Er," James said, definite hesitance in his tone.

"We'd rather stand," Remus said politely.

"Like naughty elflings, yous young sirs are! Fine, stand then. Is no skin off Knobbles ears," she said, floating two gigantic bowls of porridge across the kitchen. "Eat now. Yous young sirs is all so skinny, it makes Knobbles ears twist to look at you." Two more large glasses of milk and plates of toasted bread thumped down onto the countertop next to Sirius' own breakfast. "I is worried that yous will disappear before Knobbles can feed yous properly, yes."

Sirius thumped his friends' shoulders as they passed. He probably looked a bit manic, he was aware, but he was so grateful that his friends didn't seem to remember how stupid he'd been last night that he couldn't hold back his grin.

"No worries there, Knobbles," James said, digging into his bowl with gusto. "We are always up for food!"

"Is still too skinny, young sirs. Is not natural, how young sirs and misses is all arms and legs and so little ears. No, is not." She dashed back across the stone tiles with another carafe of milk. "Now be eating. Yous can go pester the professor Sluggy sir after yous have filled your bellies."

Sirius grinned at the familiar interplay between the Head House Elf and the Gryffindors. "Knobbles, were you ever a Gryffindor house house elf?" he asked.

Knobbles snorted. "I is a Hogwarts house elf, young sir Black. I is taking care of all the young sirs and misses."

"But you seem to really like us Gryffindors," he pointed out. "I've never known a house elf who was so good at her job."

Knobbles blushed a charming shade of green. "Young sir flatters Knobbles. But Knobbles knows the real reason she takes such good care of Gryffindors, yes she does."

"Why's that?" Remus asked around a mouthful of porridge.

"Is simple, young sir Lupin. Gryffindors is getting into so many more troubles than other houses, so we sees them eating breakfasts and lunches and suppers in the kitchens a lots. Yous is familiar, yes, as though you were my own young masters." And she gave them a smug look of satisfaction. "If yous were not so naughty, wes would not be knowing yous so well, and we would not be feeding yous standing over the counters so many times, yes?"

Sirius chuckled. The elf had a good point.

* * *

Remus kept one ear on the conversation, but he was busily studying his good friend. When they'd first stumbled upon Sirius eating his breakfast, the look on his face was mostly that of a deer in the headlights. It had swiftly changed to the happy-go-lucky boy with whom Remus had spend his school years. But it wasn't genuine. Remus could read it in his friend's eyes. He could smell it on his skin. Sirius was nervous.

It had to be about what he'd said last night. Sirius' eyes had flashed pure panic when they had questioned him about what he'd said, that he'd had worse. _Much worse_, Remus remembered. The only thing that Remus had ever experienced that hurt worse than that caning yesterday was his monthly transformation...and Sirius wasn't a werewolf.

If his dad was hitting him like James thought...but even a good punch or two didn't hurt like that caning had. His father would have to be beating him. Remus felt his stomach twist, and suddenly the bowl of hot porridge he was eating didn't seem so appetizing.

Of course, James could be wrong. It could have just been a throwaway comment.

But Remus didn't really believe that. The scent of Sirius' anxiety was bold in his nostrils. He pushed away the bowl in front of him, no longer able to stomach his meal.

They had to get to the bottom of this, and sooner rather than later.

* * *

Slughorn had been happy to trade them a fair sized bottle of essence of Murtlap in exchange for the candied pineapple that James' mum had sent. "It does best if you soak in it, lads," Slughorn said. "You can dilute it a fair bit and it will still work. Perhaps the prefect's bath?"

All three of them had turned beet red, but James managed to thank the professor for his advice before they bolted from his office.

"Well, seems as though the story has made the rounds of the professors, at least," Remus muttered.

"Grand," Sirius replied. "I'm sure Honkelbopper spread it himself."

"Yeah, I reckon Kettleburn got a good laugh out of it too. He's had it in for us since that incident with the Nifflers last year." James sighed. "Still, it was a good prank, wasn't it? Watching Filch try to brush the glitter off of himself for twenty minutes as the Nifflers tried to eat his shoes?"

"That one was. This one, eh, wasn't quite worth it." Remus took out his wand and tapped the statue guarding the boys prefect bath. "Halitosis imperfectus!"

The boys entered. "What's with the password?" Sirius said.

"Marsha Morningham's father is a dentist...she said it would remind us to brush our teeth," Remus replied.

"What's a dentist?" Sirius asked James in an aside. James shrugged. Sirius decided it must be some kind of muggle thing.

Remus turned on a few different taps, then emptied the bottle of Murtlap into one of the flows of water. The boys stripped cautiously, mindful of their sore backsides. The prefect's bath was the size of a large swimming pool, but the water rose fast, and was already up to their waists by the time the boys slipped in.

The relief was nearly instantaneous. Sirius almost moaned; it felt so good not to be in pain again. He hadn't realized how badly it hurt until the pain stopped. The unbelievable, aching burn was only a ghost of what it had been. Even the wheal stretched across his kidney receded into nothingness. "Bliss," he murmured.

Next to him, James sighed with a nod. "Definitely worth the loss of the pineapple," he said.

Remus nodded in agreement and sank down to his shoulders in the bubbles.

The water had filled nearly to the brim of the tub before anyone spoke again. Unsurprisingly, it was Remus.

"So...when you said you'd had worse..." He trailed off, but his gold eyes held Sirius in a steady gaze.

Sirius felt himself freeze. He stared at his friends, without a single thought in his mind besides _bloody buggering hell. _Then James blinked, and it broke the unwilling tableau he'd been drawn into.

"Uh, yeah," Sirius said. "I wasn't really serious about that." He glanced away from his friends. "You know, just trying to put a brave face on it and all that."

He glanced up to see what his friends thought of that, and caught the tail end of an unbelieving glance between them. Surprisingly, it was Remus who called him out on it.

"That's bullshit," Remus said, and his voice held unusual heat. "I can smell it on you right now. You're lying."

_Double bloody buggering hell._ Of course Moony could smell it on him. How could he forget? The moon was only a couple of days away. His mind scrabbled in panic. What was he going to tell them? He couldn't even look at his friends, and he felt his face flush with shame. He wished he would have solidified exactly what story he was going to tell them during his shower earlier, because right now he couldn't think of a damn word he could say.

"It's just, you said you'd had worse. And, uh, I've only seen one thing that even kind of made sense to me Padfoot. I'm gonna ask you something, and you're probably going to be angry, but uh, I'm going to ask anyway." James swallowed, and Sirius eyed him warily. "I just...uh, last spring, when your dad picked you up from the express...I saw..."

Sirius felt all the blood drain from his face. This was a train wreck! He hadn't thought any of the Marauders had seen the way his father had hit him when he was in queue to leave Platform 9 ¾ last spring, and he'd been grateful. To know that James had seen it was humiliating, and it also left him almost no space for denial.

"What I mean to ask is, does your dad..." James looked like he had swallowed something disgusting.

"Don't ask that," Sirius said, and he barely recognized his own voice. It sounded dull, flat, and small.

"Does he hit you like that, uh, a lot?" It was Remus who managed to finish the question.

The silence in the room seemed to echo off the walls and get caught in the bubbles on the surface of the tub. Sirius just stared at them. Had they really just asked that? Why, why did they have to ask that?

Their eyes were still on him though, and damn it all, they knew. No matter what he said now, they knew, because Moony could smell it and Prongs wasn't an idiot either; they'd been friends for long enough to know each others' tells. There was horror on both boys' faces as they digested what he hadn't needed to say. Sirius sighed and gave a little half-shrug of confirmation anyway. "You know I hate my parents," he said, and he was proud that he managed to keep his voice as even as if he was only confirming the weather.

The silence was big between them though, heavy and dark like thunderclouds. He looked away from his friends, feeling beyond ashamed.

"Merlin's balls, mate. That's not on." James' voice was angry.

"Not much I can do about it," Sirius replied, still not looking at his friends. "They're my parents. Haven't much of a choice, seeing as I live with them and all. Students can't stay here over the summer. I know; I've asked."

"But if they beat you—" Remus protested.

"My parents are purebloods, Moony. Who is going to try to stop them? That's just what purebloods do." He stared at his hands, which were beginning to turn pruny in the water.

"No," James said. "No, it's not. My parents have never beaten me. Never even hit me once. They didn't even believe in smacking when I was little. So it's not 'just what purebloods do' because my folks are as pureblooded as they come." There was a pause, and then James said, "You'll just have to move in with us, then."

Sirius popped his head up. "What?" That had not been what he'd expected Prongs to say.

"Your parents are hurting you. My parents, as you well know, wouldn't hurt a fly. So you can come live with us next summer. You already spend holidays there during the school year." James seemed to think it was settled.

"Your mum might like me, Prongs, but I don't think she's going to let me move in," Sirius said.

"She will. I know my folks. If she knew what your dad was doing—"

"NO!" Sirius' shout echoed off the walls, stunning James into silence. "You can't tell her. If my parents found out, they'd murder me!" There was no love lost between the Blacks and their black sheep son, and he knew it well. Losing status in the eyes of another Pure and Ancient House, even one as despised as the Potters, might well push them that last inch towards insanity that would allow them to murder their firstborn son.

"Okay, okay," James said, his hands held out in surrender. "Not a word. But...uh...I could tell them that they refuse to let a Gryffindor live under their roof anymore. Yeah. Or...or something. We'll think of something. They're not going to let you go homeless, mate. And I'm not gonna let you go back there when your parents are that evil. You deserve better than that."

Sirius couldn't look at James. His eyes were feeling a bit prickly. His friends were the best.

Since he didn't have words, he transformed into Padfoot and launched himself at his friend, licking a long stripe up the side of his face.

"Yuck!" James yelped, splashing backwards frantically. "Really, Padfoot?"

Padfoot barked excitedly, tail sending bubbles flying in every direction. A moment later, his antlered friend was tossing his head, sending water crashing over the sides of the bath.

"Whoa, whoa, guys, I don't want to get caught in the middle of this!" Remus hollered, jumping out of the tub and grabbing a towel. He wrapped it around his waist in a hurry. "Merlin knows the kind of damage you could do to my bits with one of those antlers!"

Prongs turned back into his usual self in time to catch an armful of dog. He dropped his friend into the water and swam for the edge. "Don't want Moony to have to worry about his bits, after all," he said, grabbing a towel of his own.

Sirius pulled himself out of the pool and shook himself thoroughly, then transformed back into his human shape. He was mostly dry, but he patted himself down with a towel and began dressing in his school clothes. "Yeah, that would be a fun thing to have to explain to Madam Pomfrey, wouldn't it?" he said.

All three boys winced at the thought.

They finished getting dressed and gathered up their school supplies. "Tempus," Remus said. "Blast. We missed half of Divination."

"Well, Professor Alexander should have seen that coming," James cracked. And all three of the boys broke up with laughter.

* * *

Fifteen year old boys aren't particularly good at navigating the minefield that is feelings. Sirius was also never one to be a great talker, not about anything that mattered. Even later, there was never really a good time to bring it up so Sirius never told Remus that he was grateful he'd asked the hard questions. He never told James that his offer of a place to stay had been a lifeline to a drowning man. But the Marauders had been the best of mates since they were eleven...and so they knew these things, none the less.

THE END


End file.
